


intimacy

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Domestic Fluff, Hair Braiding, Hair Washing, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Those eyes of yours… You’re still a fine burglar, aren’t you?""For the both of you, always.”





	intimacy

“Do you know why I wear my braids this way, Bilbo?" 

The question is not exactly out of nowhere. Bilbo is brushing Bofur’s wet hair, small fingers going through the knots with practiced ease. They decided not to go with Thorin’s smelly concoction this time, after the result they got last time. ( _"It’s not so bad.” “It looks like an orc pissed on top o’ my head!”_ ). It’s just water, soap, and Bilbo’s patient fingers. But they had been in silence and even though the question isn’t uncalled for, it’s still a bit of surprise. 

Bilbo hesitates. 

“I always thought it was a matter of, uh, saving time,” Bilbo offers, wishing he could see Bofur’s face. “I mean, three simple braids. Practical, isn't it?" 

"Well, there’s that,” Bofur says, voice low and drowsy. He’s always incredibly relaxed by the time Bilbo is done. "I suppose that’s what everyone else thinks, too. And it’s not wrong, mind you.“ 

Bilbo runs his fingers from scalp to tip for the first time that day, most of the knots finally undone. Bofur’s hair is longer than he remembers it being when they first got to Bag End, but he thought he had seen the dwarf trimming the tips every once in a while. Is he letting it grow? 

"But that ain’t all either,” Bofur continues, pulling Bilbo out of his reverie. “See, I never cared much about hair." 

"What? You?" 

Bofur leans his head back so he can glance at Bilbo, a goofy upside down smile on his face. "Surprised, are we?" 

"But I thought… I thought dwarves loved it. Hair, I mean. All body hair. The longer the better,” Bilbo says, confused, hands never stopping even when Bofur straightens his back and looks forward again. “Isn’t that why everyone bothers Kili on a daily basis?" 

"Yeah.” Bofur pauses long enough for Bilbo to catch up. 

The hobbit quirks his lips in a lopsided grin, “Wait. Are you telling me you’re the only dwarf in Middle Earth that doesn’t care about hair?" 

Bofur shrugs. "Not one bit. It’s damn fine against the cold, I’ll give you that. But all in all, makes no difference to me." 

"And you like to have an excuse to feel my fingers on your scalp." 

"Oh, you bet I do, loved one." 

"Is that why you’re letting it grow?" 

That got a reaction. Bofur turned his upper body around to look Bilbo in the face, almost exasperated. "And how did you notice that?" 

"Well, I do brush your hair once a fortnight, you know.”

Bofur tutted, a loving smile on his face. 

“Those eyes of yours… You’re still a fine burglar, aren’t you?" 

"For the both of you, always.” Bilbo answered with a smile, then frowned. “Did you talk to Thorin about this?" 

"Nah,” Bofur says, going back to his position with his back resting against Bilbo’s legs. “It doesn’t bother me, and I don’t suppose it bothers him either. He’s too smart not to have noticed it, even back in the days of the quest." 

They fall in comfortable silence, with Bilbo working steadily but patiently on the last few knots. They can hear Thorin’s thunderous voice talking with the gardener just outside the window, finishing up their work for the day. It’s quiet, but not too much that they’d wonder where Thorin was; light streams through the curtains but just enough to give everything a faint golden glow. This is peace, Bilbo decides. All that he never knew he wanted, that he can’t see himself living without, now. 

"Why don’t you cut it short?” Bilbo asks as he divides Bofur’s hair in three; he always starts with the braid on his back. 

“I would have, in the past." 

"Not now?" 

"No,” Bofur says as they hear Thorin’s heavy boots coming through the front door. 

“It has a purpose now, you see. There’s now this day where we sit together and you brush my hair, and Thorin joins sometimes, and it’s the happiest I’ve ever been. I’m not in a hurry to change that." 

Thorin comes into the room, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He takes in their positions and smiles, asking Bilbo, "Do you need a hand?" 

Bilbo nods, and soon Thorin is there, sitting beside him, making the prettiest left braid Bilbo has ever seen. They can’t see, but Bofur is smiling, eyes closed while cracking jokes about how his hair gets better royal treatment than Fili as the King under the Mountain. This is peace, they all agree. Something that they wouldn’t trade for the largest treasure in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and/or comments would make my (ridiculously anxious) soul very happy! <3


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